Challenge
by BrightBlurr
Summary: Kisame rescues a stray, and Itachi discovers this strange girl has more in common with him than he originally decided. To live a peaceful life after a climatic ending-a dream neither can achieve. ( ItaTayu. )
1. Chapter 1

Challenge

PART # 1

"Why did you rescue this girl?" he asked, after a few moments of silence.

Perhaps Kisame had been out of his mind, but in his arms, Itachi could clearly make out the form of a young girl. Not too young—a mere three or four years apart from him, putting her at an age when she would be adolescent. After enough consideration, Kisame seemed to shrug his shoulders. The way he was carrying the girl seemed like he was carrying a toy. It was obvious she was just in the way when he had found her. Between him and his goal. Whatever that might have been.

As perceptive as he was, Itachi didn't have as much care for others as well. He knew it was wrong to ignore someone, but he had much to fulfill before arriving to Konoha. And yet Kisame had brought some sort of problem into their journeys. When it seemed his oafish companion had no idea what to do with the girl he had found, Itachi didn't make much indication beyond pointing to the flames that lit their campfire. There was nothing soft for the girl to be kept on, but he didn't mind. All he truly knew was that if this girl didn't wake soon, she would be left behind by morning.

When Kisame lowered her to the ground near the fire and eventually stood himelf straight, he gave Itachi a lopsided grin and turned to look out towards the woods. No doubt, he had nourishment on mind. Itachi did not have the same notion, due to his preplanned packaging. "I'm going to go hunt," Kisame predictably responded, and eventually turned to walk towards the inner workings of the forest. Once he was out of sight, did Itachi dare glance over at the unexpected inhabitant of their hideaway. He didn't quite know what to expect. She had to originate from some village, but there was no identification on her. If she were meant to be killed, it was likely she kept no identification. It indicated that she was only a missing nin. But at such a young age..

He walked closer, each footstep bringing him near her until he could make out her visage. Her facial structures were damaged. Her thin appendages were strengthened, it looked, by some strange sort of, chakra. She was evidently a ninja. Perhaps a chunin. But what was most odd was the flute clutched in one appendage. It was a lightweight one, and he recalled that it was a musical instrument that relied on winds. She had to be from Orochimaru's Sound Village. He had heard much of it, and if this girl utilized sound for a weapon—she was likely one of his. But, why was she abandoned? Did no one check to see if she had lived?

"Pitiful," he mumbled, even as he knelt down near her body. His hand first reached for her throat, where two fingers covered the pulse on her neck. Long red hairstrands were in the way, and his hand brushed it away. She was pretty. He had noticed it only because of the way her unblemished features stood out. No makeup, but the simple touches of natural skin and even more natural, hard work, showed. She was one of those people who developed their abilities. Natural talent played little part I her life. Much unlike traditional kunoichi. He could see this only too easily from the way she was dressed. No cleavage shown, no assets. It was an outfit meant for a shinobi with little purpose besides battle. She was a rare person among the several thousand Kunoichi in the world.

Her pulse was strong. He could feel the faint little beat under his fingers, and his soft touch seemed to awaken it even more. The coldness of her skin though, indicated that she had easily been dead had Kisame not found her. He had mistakenly rescued her. She was lucky. Moving his hand away, he let the appendage slip to the shoulder of his black cloak. Without further hesitation, he slipped the cloak off and allowed it to cover her. The black and red looked terrible against her, but he thought it would serve purpose of keeping her warmed until sunset quite well. If she didn't wake up by then, Kisame would decide what to do with the girl he'd rescued.

Shifting himself to sit properly, he let his arms fold over his chest, and he glanced at the fire. For the remainder of the night, he would need to contemplate what his next step was.

By sunset, he heard the sounds of Kisame returning. He thought to look up, but he found it better to continue staring at the doused flames. The fire was long gone, but the strange girl remained unconscious near the flames. She looked better in the sunlight. He assumed it was her hair. A fiery red. That reminded him of the sun, and he immediately associated it with such. "We'll go now?" Kisame asked, as he looked at Itachi. He appeared to have forgotten the odd girl. She was covered in Itachi's cloak. Perhaps he assumed she was gone. There needed to be a good solution to this, and Itachi could not see Kisame spending his day tending to a girl. He was more likely to abandon her, or eat her for some sick, monstrous pleasure. Itachi knew he couldn't let someone be left alone to suffer. He had duty to protect. And he was the only consciously thinking human being here..

"Go. I'll catch up in a few days," he responded, after a few moments of thinking. The shock on Kisame's features were easy to ignore. His probing nature, however, was not. "You're gonna stay behind? Is it that girl? Did'ya know her?" he asked. Kisame's questions were easy to ignore. Itachi's need to leave, howeve,r was not. He moved towards the cloak-covered female, and knelt down. Slipping his arms underneath her, he lifted her carelessly. She was malnourished. She was probably always malnourished. Her village did not feed her. But it was expected of a machine meant to kill. Only eat what was required. Ironic as it was, Itachi understood this as well. He turned, still clutching the girl close to himself, and began walking away from Kisame, who watched silently. It did not take long for him to enter the inner parts of the forest. It was chilly. But the cloak was not necessary. If he was to attempt at keeping this girl alive long enough to be able to leave her with someone who could properly heal her and give her a new chance at life.

Minutes passed, almost into hours, and all he did was race further away from the direction he should be going to, hoping to reach a village before nightfall. Kisame was much faster than him, and naturally, this meant Itachi would take longer to find him after they went separate ways. How disdainful, really. All due to one little girl interrupting their business. He might have continued in this sense had the faint stirring in his arms not managed to distract him. Looking down with furrowed eyebrows, he finally took notice of the fiery haired girl opening her eyes, very hesitantly. Her lips parted, slightly—the pink sheen of her lips, it stood out. Perhaps achieving consciousness had brought some warmth to her. Or maybe it was his cloak finally providing enough warmth. But it was most shocking to see her eyes, were a strange brown hue. A colour that was so lackluster, it suited her expressive hair colour.

"Nnh.. s.. stupid, trash—"

Itachi was taken back by her choice in words. Did she refer to him? He was not certain. But he was so objective that he had managed to be ignorant of any sort of behavioural problems she might have. Fiery hair indicated to a fiery nature. It appeared, even half conscious, this female had that kind of indication in her behaviour. The moment her eyes closed again, he was aware that slumber had taken her again. It was even more summed in nature when she gripped him closer. She was moving in her sleep. But she seemed to seek the warmth of his own body. It was like Sasuke, in his sleep, when he was younger. But this girl was just that—a girl. Sasuke was a brother. The difference between these was unacceptable. But he made do with it, allowing her closer. Enough that he could swear he felt her breath against his clothing. There was such strangeness to this female. She was both attractive, and strangely repelling. She was different.

Who exactly did Kisame rescue?

After a few hours, they were quick to arrive at a small village, where he was sure no one recognised him. The innkeeper leant him a room based on some ryo, and he had immediately taken to the room in hopes of placing the girl there. Once he pulled the covers of the bed aside, he gently settled her down on the bed, and stepped away to examine her. Injured as she was, she healed. Too quickly. He didn't understand how or why. Moving closer, he examined her features, until his eyes travelled down to her neck. To the marking on the side of her neck indicating that she had something there. Brushing her hair aside, he frowned when he noticed the markings Orochimaru left on his disciples, imprinted into her. She was one of his—the ones he held closest. How had he managed to come across someone like this? He would never understand. Instead, he took focus on how she was finally regaining full consciousness, enough that her hands fisted, and her eyes scrunched up in a way that showed she was in pain. Had her spine been crushed? Perhaps. But how was she healing so quickly? The miracles the cursed mark provided were great, Itachi found now. He wondered how many other ill-fated children were pushed into that.

"Where the fuck am I?" she spoke up, in a pained voice. He didn't make movement, but he did shift his gaze towards her leg. Incredible that she didn't take notice of her surroundings. He could only imagine how much she'd be shocked once she woke up. Once she noticed where she was, and who she was around. Did she even know about the Akatsuki? Once her brown hues landed on him, he looked back with equally as dark optics, taking in the way she looked at him. The way she appeared almost flabbergast by the way he appeared. Was she afraid? Or was she taking in his own behaviour the same way he was summarizing hers in a few, simple moments? She sat up in an instance, and her glare was shattering. He had finally found someone unafraid of sending him a glare, but someone who likely had strange capabilities. One of Orochimaru's own. And much unlike that cowardly snake, she wasn't backing off.

"Who the hell are you? Where the fuck is that trash?!" she shouted, immediately angry from some source Itachi could not understand. What was she going on about? Nevertheless, he stood still, unafraid. He was the powerful missing nin. She had no idea who she was going to try hurting. "You're that Uchiha, aren't you? Why the fuck are you out of the barrel already? Where's Kimimaro? Where's your cursed mark?" she barked, still loud.

_That Uchiha_..

His immediately dawning on Sasuke being the person this girl was indicating to made his stomach stricken. She was talking about his brother. Much to his displeasure, it meant his brother had somehow concocted himself into some mad universe where he was a victim with Orochimaru's plans. And it would only cause problems for him. For his true intentions—to stop Sasuke from turning out like himself. More to contemplate later. Less time to deal with the girl right now. Indicating to the cloak still covering part of her body, he only spoke for the first time since a day or so ago, to try and reason. Because she was in no condition to fight, and he was in no state to do pointless warfare.

"I am not him. Lay still, or you will be killed," he announced, almost emotionlessly. He did take notice of her calculative, shifty gaze. Almost as if she were considering what to do. In one moment, he realised she was no ordinary kunoichi. She was intelligent. She was summarizing her situation and basing her solutions on it. An interesting turn of events. "Then you'll let me go—because it's obvious what you want. Something near Konohagakure." Did she know about the Akatsuki? He wasn't certain. But maybe she recognised her surroundings. But he knew better than to let her go so soon. Interrogation was necessary, especially since he now knew that Sasuke was in orochimaru's grasp.

But the moment their eyes met again, he knew this might be difficult—this girl. She was just as intelligent, but much more stubborn than him. They were too opposed.

He had met a challenge.

Once he had managed to watch her settle herself into a position of laying down, he had walked to the other side of the room to peer at her from another angle. By now, the flush of her cheeks had returned. She looked tired. But there was the flame he suddenly found so entrancing, returning. And overlapping her temperous behaviour. This girl, she had something he had not seen in a long time. She had the will to stand up and fight, and she was still female. But her unfortunate condition indicated she was not good enough. She needed to change in order to be good enough, get rid of the demon that had found its way into her life. But could she remove Orochimaru? He was aware that large amounts of his followers were truly attached to him. Was this girl likewise? Or was she so unattached that she would shout at her own master?

When he offered her a clean swab and a bowl to clean off the wounds on her body parts, he expected some sort of retort back, but instead, a silent glare was aimed in his direction, and her eyes spoke in words he found he couldn't understand. She was by far a more complex creature than he initially assumed. It was her eyes. It was her behaviour. She almost seemed more closed off than he was. "I don't need your help," she barked. Her tone was not loud, but her voice spoke in a way he couldn't imitate, had he wanted to. She was quite serious. "People who abandon their comrades are worse than swine."

He didn't quite understand her indication at first—Kisame had not been abandoned, and she had been unconscious. But the further he delved into thought, the more he recalled she had been around Sasuke. And it was obvious that they were from the same clan. They were one and the same. And therefore, she must have associated him with any sort of tale of the Uchiha. He faint spoke of his past. She was a knowledgeable opponent, should he consider her one. She meant his brother, whom he had obviously left to fight for himself. Without much more word, he reached for her hand, letting his fingers curl around her wrist, even as she gasped out and shouted for him to release hold of her. If she argued, he could snap her hand like a twig. As ill as he was, he was no fool to allow a girl to ruin his judgment. He let the swab run over the cuts, the injuries. They were caused by sources of tree. She had likely been blown to it by a gust of wind. But she had less chakra than he initially assumed. What was this girl? Her weapon eluded him. She fought using some sort of musical instrument. If such a weapon were powerful enough.. it could destroy his susanoo.

One girl could disrupt his Sharingan.

When he had run it over each cut, he could have sworn he'd heard every insult he had ever learnt of. Hidan had every possible insult booked, until this strange girl began to use them in a way he couldn't describe. Despite being so young, she took pain tolerantly. She was not insulting the pain, but she was insulting him for controlling her in a state like this. He was manipulative. Hadn't he controlled Sasuke, too? The questions he found entering his mind were so heavy. So complex. He didn't understand how someone could be so deceptively strong. She was almost created to combat his jutsu. No one else could combat him in this sense. It was riveting. It was wrong on so many strange levels. Itachi despised how this girl was controlling him—without attempting to.

Placing the swab aside, he locked his gaze with hers. And there was nothing more confusing than the glare aimed right back. Perhaps no one had challenged him in so long. Not his partner, and certainly never the Akatsuki. Besides the obvious enemies he encountered that couldn't hold a candle to him, he was certain that he could take them apart. But she was different. She was perhaps, one of few enemies who bested him emotionally. One fiery girl, and all he had to combat was silence, and temporary control. He was intruiged in an entirely negative sense, and the further her traversed into this simpleminded contemplation of this female, the more he found he would have no escape. Within a few moments, he had stepped away from her to go clean the swab and tend to some form of food to properly disarray any weakness either of them had developed. It would be a matter of time before her wounds healed, and even less time before his own healed. He too had to discover where to settle this girl before the end of their journeying.

By the ending of the day, he had occulated two plates of onigiri and water canisters. It was simple enough that he could go about unnoticed in this village. When he expressed interest in offering the plates to her, once again her silent glare held him in place. But this time, it appeared she had less control over her verbatim.

"I don't want that bullshit you're trying to feed me. I'll look after myself," she responded, with equal vigor to the moment before. As pretty as her expressions and appearance were, she lacked one thing Itachi found most attractive in any person—silence and respect. She seemed intent on defaming anyone. And she evidently did not care for his background, or his reputation. After sighing out, he placed the onigiri on the table beside her and shifted over to a chair in the inn room where he settled down and politely ate his food. He had no reason to hold off, after all. She followed suit after a few moments, but he was ever alert that she was gaining strength, and her courage never waned. It amused him, and confounded him. How could he expect to hold someone like this down for so long?

"Where the fuck am I, anyway?" she asked. He was even more amused that she hid her name. Most would ask for a name. However, it appeared their exchange would lack names. She was not aware of his, even despite his likeliness to his younger brother. "Village. North of Konohagakure," he responded, after a few more moments of contemplating. The temptation of food between them was a formality now. They were both considering how to stop the other from knowing too much while gathering information themselves. "Where do you intend to go?"

She paused as well as he did. However, her response was hasty. She was young, and reckless. Almost like some kamikaze that he imagined giving their life in favour of the victory of their village. "Nowhere," was her response. He assumed she was not lying, by the honesty in her voice. It was not boasting, nor was it hidden and shy. She was speaking with truth. But nowhere indicated she had no home, and anyone did. Only a ninja under Orochimaru, meant to die, would have no place to go. It only made his situation more difficult. He would have no choice but to abandon her here. She had no place among shinobi from the Akatsuki. "What about you?" she asked—and she slipped in the silent way of gaining his personal information. However, try as she might, he knew to keep his identity hidden. His cloak now placed on a chair indicated all too well to where he now belonged. "Akatsuki," he responded. It was a true answer, but only partially.

When her food selection had been completed, she shifted to climb out of the bed. He had not moved, simply because it was not in his place to do so, but her pained grunt when her legs shook, and her weakened expression at standing, all made him churn with dislike. He immediately stood, and placed his plate aside and walked towards her, just in time for her to collapse, her legs giving out. His arms slipped around her figure very, perfectly, tugging her body closer, and he kept her from falling. But it revealed in one moment that the damage to her body had been completed. Her legs were likely too weak to be repaired by any normal means. Despite her protest and shouting, he shifted her back onto the bed and knelt down enough to look at her legs. The thin appendages, were likely damaged. Permanently. She could no longer serve life as a shinobi. Crippled. He internally found it ironic that she should lose her ability at the end of her mission, taking his brother away—when in reality, he too should be in such condition if he were to survive his future. Blind from overuse of his Mangekyo Sharingan. And they would be in similar places.

However unlike her, he had a plan, to end himself. And to redeem his brother. She likely had no one like that. She really had no traceable past, or no way to return to Orochimaru. He would probably end her himself if he knew of her lack of appendages to move with.

"I guess that was it," she mused, almost shocking him from the amused tone. He didn't understand. "That trash didn't win. And I'm done for." She sounded cynically pleased that she wasn't able to move anymore. It was strange enough that someone who was so young didn't mind losing control over her legs. She was barely an adult. But he supposed he understood. He, too, wanted to leave the Shinobi world behind, to live peacefully. She seemed to want likewise, as odd as it was.

"Tell me your name," he requested. It wasn't a question. She seemed to contemplate, before she looked up at the ceiling. "Tayuya," she answered. "Yours."

"Itachi," he answered back. And at that moment, he became aware of just how strangely calm this struggle had become. It seemed they were both very similar people, despite the differences they had. She wanted to live peacefully at the moment where they considered her dead—he wanted the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Challenge

PART # 2

She was ten when she told herself that one day, she wanted to stop being a Shinobi and instead be some sort of villager. By that time, it was too late, and she had the cursed mark on her neck to prove she was destined to be working for Orochimaru, for the rest of her life, but she didn't mind. All she wanted was to go out with one big mark on the world—one chance to prove that one girl could cause the biggest problem an entire nation could encounter. The dream she wanted, she decided, would be after that climatic moment. She decided either after her own death, or after she abandoned Orochimaru. It was such a badly thought out plan. She was sure, back then, that it might never come. But the dream of being some ordinary farm worker, in a village, with her head in the ground and her eyes set on the sky, was so tempting. Beautiful, but unreachable.

Her legs were immobile. She had finally reached that part of her life. But judging from how difficult it was to breathe, she would die out now, anyway. She was doomed. She wouldn't show this weakness, because she was too haughty to allow that male to see her weakness. But at the same time, she knew she had reached the end. Her lungs were crushed that day. Any time she had left was just plain pointless.

But here he was, this man, probably from the Uchiha clan, trying to assist her. It made her sneer at the sheer _irony_ of the situation. She'd just damned one of his relatives. And he was assisting her? A deranged clan, with deranged people. She didn't care to learn anymore because her time was so short, all she wanted to do was relax before giving up. Not argue with someone she didn't know. Giving him hope that he could help was useless to both of them. He probably only wanted intel on Orochimaru anyway. It brought the slightest of a humoured sneer to her expression, and she resisted letting her apparent amusement show, because he had a keen eye. She despised how he was watching her so tediously. He was almost keeping track of every little movement she made, and she would have been happy to slit his throat off. If she weren't so weak and disabled.

Examining him only served to confuse her even more, rather than give her clarity. He was a quiet person (seemingly genetic trait since all of these Uchiha seemed quiet), and he didn't look like he was as arrogant or haughty as his brother had been. He didn't even seem interested in gaining power like his brother. Something about this man was calm, and more collected. He reminded her of Kimimaro, but there was something she couldn't place a finger on. Kimimaro struck her with fear. This Itachi, made her want to sock him with her bare fist. But she wasn't sure she could accomplish that, physically. She was fairly sure he was careful of her because of her flute. Or maybe because he had no reason to be afraid of her. Why was he bothering with trying to help her?

Did that motherfucker even have any medical experience?

_Obviously not_, she mused, letting her hand reach up to brush a few hair strands back. Her helmet had been knocked away, probably when she'd been crushed by that tree. But the excess life she had left, she would need to keep Orochimaru's life a secret. Keep her life, after joining Orochimaru, a secret, and play this game of intellect and secrets as well as she could. All while trying to muscle each bit of information she could out of him. If she knew more before going to her grave, it would at least do well for her. She only cared about herself.

A day passed by uneventfully, after they had spoken that little bit and gotten responses. He seemed satisfied with what she'd said, about winning. But it seemed like he too had something to attend to. She figured it was at that village. Konohagakure seemed like it was really popular. Either for the Uchiha it had in it before, or the Hokage, or anything else she didn't care for. By the time night settled over the horizon, she'd laid down again and barely taken notice of him shifting over to a chair at the side of the room. She didn't want to ask what he was thinking, but from the way he settled in the chair and pulled the cloak from the chair closer to his body, it was clear that he was planning to sleep that way. He had a trait she hadn't seen in any of her teammates, or the men she had encountered. As small a number as that was.

He was planning to give up having a bed for the night, to a girl that he had absolutely no relation to.

Turning around, she pulled the bedsheets closer and let her eyes close. She wished she'd kept a rubber band. Her hair was horrible. "Hey, _trash_," she called out, knowing he'd hear. "You're not half bad."

That entire night, she'd had a dream. About the most unusual place, where green grasses and meadows grew as far as her eyes could see. She imagined a tree, and for some reason, none of her teammates were there. There seemed to be smells of dango all around, because she liked that more than any other treat she'd sampled in her life. Not far from her was a village—a village where they made wind instruments, and created the most beautiful of sounds. She could see a red haired man, and a brown haired woman. But she didn't go towards them, because the tree was at equal distance away. It was the most unusual dream, for her, since she hadn't thought of her home since she'd been brought to Orochimaru. She knew they had burned down her village, and all she had left was a flute that Orochimaru had given her, a keepsake from someone. She still had no idea if she was the only survivor, but it made sense. Why no one could do her jutsu the way she did. Why the sound village, didn't really have much sound to begin with. It was depressing.

She looked back at the tree when she was finished gazing at the village, in her dream, and her eyes locked onto a figure perched under the tree itself. It looked so far away, and the figure was cloaked by a darkness from the shade of the tree. It was turned away from her, as well. But all in all, she realised the dream was what she wanted. Her peaceful land where she could spend her day listening to music on her flute, and spend time with someone she could find worth her time. A _challenge_ she could overcome and never be able to douse.

When she'd been woken, it was because real sunlight streamed down onto her, and she felt an aching disdain at waking up in this world, again. She would have preferred to wake up in her dream world, coveted by the sounds and sights of a peaceful village. Her legs didn't have much feeling, but she had the repressed urge to cough. And when she did, she heard a shift nearby, and instantly a tall, dark figure loomed over her, reaching out without her permission to check the injuries she may have accumulated. She pulled her hand away, but the hand travelled to her mouth, the rough, masculine fingers touching her lips in an attempt to show that it wanted her to be quiet. When her gaze met with heavy dark eyes, she knew that person in an instance, was Itachi.

_Motherfucking Uchiha, heard me cough._

He seemed to check her pulse, then press his hand to her stomach, almost in medical procedure. He was trying to find out what was wrong. She didn't say a word, but she did glare. If that fucker thought he could scare her, he was out of his mind. When he seemed satisfied, he stepped back, giving her space. She was quick to realise he didn't want anything from her. He probably wasn't a pervert. He was one of the most unusual men she had ever met. "You're not healthy," he decided. It was easy to notice that, and she retorted back by saying, "No shit," in a voice that might have scared any other person off, or at least irritated them. But his lack of an expression showed that he wasn't afraid of her, or really phased by her words. He was one of those people who didn't seem to care about what they were told.

"You'll die in a matter of days," he responded. "If not hours."

"Can't wait," she answered, with sarcasm laced in her voice. But for some reason, she found it was something to look forward to. To crave, and to recognise. She was sure if she died, she would go to the place she wanted to be. Not that he'd understand. She thought for a moment, that he intended to live life out, for a long time, and perhaps die with some random girl he thought he'd have kids with. But the moment she noticed him take in her words, she noticed something odd about his own reaction. He didn't seem to ignore her—if anything, he seemed intrigued by her answer. It was like a complex game of twenty questions, and for some reason, whenever either of them answered, the other person was confused beyond understanding. "It's the same, for me," he answered, after a brief pause.

She was perplexed. He was going to die soon, too? She thought to ask, but she thought it would disturb too much into the personas they'd developed around each other. Kind of like, intruding. She continued to remain quiet, until she thought of what she should ask. Because it was only fair that she'd return his weird questions with her own.

"Where do you want to end up?" she asked. It wasn't intruding. If he was going to die, it was his own business. If she was going to die, she wanted to keep it to herself, too. But to have someone here, sharing her last few hours with her. It was a little amusing. If anything, it made her reconsider the concept of hating all men. Perhaps there was something hopeful about this strange man. "A peaceful village," he indulged, in his deep voice. She noticed that he didn't think twice about it. She was expecting to hear ruling over hell, or any other stereotypical thing like that, but he wanted to live peacefully. That sounded nothing like what an ambitious Uchiha would do. _This rat apparently wants to live in a dumphole—kind of like I do._

Silence settled around them both. She wanted to assume he was thinking. He seemed fond of doing that. But she was thinking, too. And she found herself drawn to how strangely similar they both were in their one ambition. Going to a safe place—a village where there was no conflict. Nothing like that existed in this world, but maybe in an afterlife. "Shit like that," she began. And he looked at her, when she spoke. None of her teammates, or Orochimaru for the matter, ever paid attention to what she said. His heavy glare made her cheeks burn red, maybe out of embarrassment and annoyance. She liked the attention, a little. She evn liked the way she could keep her identity hidden, but she could talk about some things, with this quiet man, that she hadn't with her teammates. Her past was long gone now, and all she considered was the possibility of passing on with a few weights lifted off her shoulder. "It doesn't exist here. But fuck, when I pass on—"

She couldn't help but watch the way he came closer to her with each word. First kneeling beside the bed, and then his hand reached to grasp onto her pale wrist. She could tell the red painted over her cheeks was visible, and she would have lashed out, but the way his eyes remained dark and focused on her, showed that if she did anything wrong, he'd snap her in a second. Or maybe she was reading into it too much. "I want to be in a world like that. With a village, my village, and a meadow, where there's a tree—" He was almost too quiet, listening to her talk about a dream world. Where she knew no one else would be. How many people really thought about staying in a meadow in their afterlife? She was one of the few strange ones who did. His head leaned in, and she could have sworn she saw red flash in his dark optics. He was definitely dangerous. And Tayuya usually fancied dangerous over a still lifestyle, especially since she was one of the more feisty people. She didn't know what made her shut up around him—it was both fear, and something else. Not love or anything. It was interest. Purely interest.

"The tree," he spoke, almost asking for her to continue. Did he know what she was saying, before her? She didn't know much about the Sharingan, but it wasn't activated. She didn't know what was pulling for her to talk, more. It was going far, this game of theirs, and she didn't understand why fate had brought this onto her—someone who understood her, right before her deathbed. She didn't regret her life, but she knew she'd always wonder, what would have happened, had they met before. "The tree, behind it, there's going to be someone waiting for me. Maybe some trash that I picked up in this life," she finished, and she didn't know why he seemed a little puzzled by her words. "You don't know, who you want to see waiting there?" he asked.

She understood, now, that she was surprising him. He didn't know what to expect of her, and she didn't know what to expect of him. In ways, they were both just one big _challenge_ for one another. She couldn't explain it in any other way. "It's a surprise. What sort of rat would want to wait for me?" she asked—and she hated to admit that she doubted any of this would happen. She had a fair share of fist fights with boys who thought she was pretty. Kimimaro had realised how dangerous it was to try and go near her, too. She wouldn't have any friends to wait for her. She expected to be there alone, most likely. He only seemed determined, when he moved even closer, his hand shifting to hers and gripping it. His fingers interwinded with hers, and he seemed a little too close for comfort. It was almost creepy. She wanted to ask why he was so close to her. But he didn't seem like the type to speak about what he was going to do.

"I will."

His lips were immediately against hers, and her heartbeat increased thousandfold. She didn't know how to react at first, but the moment the strength returned to her free hand, she reached up and shoved him away by the shoulder. She was evidently weaker than she had thought, but his head moved back. And his puzzled frown made her stomach churn. This was stupid. Ridiculous. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?! Get away from me, you rat!" she shouted. Her voice was louder than her threats were really. But his hand didn't release hold of her wrist. His eyes were more gentle than he originally thought. She considered it, heavily. Why he was so gentle, but at the same time, so stern. She knew nothing of this person, and he was here, trying to coax something as icky as a kiss from her. From an enemy. He was sick and out of his mind.

"It was just the way otou-san and okaa-san were," he mused, out loud. And it was strange because Tayuya realised he was referring to his parents. So cold hearted killers did think of their parents? "Okaa-san told me, when a girl resists, she'll be the most honest." Honesty was one thing Tayuya managed to do, even when it was pointless. Was he trying to say he liked her? No, it was just a game. A strange interest between them. And the more they spoke, the more it became evident that they had almost been created to combat one another. It was ironic.

When he let his eyes melt into the strange red colour she remembered being told of, she didn't show any fear. His eyes were his most obvious feature, next to how gentle he was. She didn't think he reminded her of herself, at all. He seemed like he hid himself. She let too much of herself out. This chanced encounter changed everything. He subtly pressed his lips to hers again, but this time, she didn't turn away. Instead, she stayed oddly still, letting him take taste her, even in her sickened state. She fully expected him to pull away, but there was no such movement. Instead, he retained the close proximity, and the strange way he only gently tried to make her respond back, made her viciously keep from moving. She knew if she reacted, she'd let herself down. If she didn't, he'd be frustrated and keep trying to find out how to make her react.

He moved his head away after a few moments, and only silently looked down at her. There was no further words, between them—at least, from his end. But she could still feel the pinkish hint on her cheeks, flushed over her nose, and she responded in the only way she could cope with it.

"If you ever pull that shit off again, I'll make sure you're bleeding to death like the trash you are."

And much to her surprise, he didn't respond back rudely. He only looked away. She could see an emotion already—he wanted to do that again. And she'd be damned before letting him.

Much to her dismay, in that moment, her lungs chose to begin coughing violently, and her vision was clouded when she noticed red liquid coming out of her mouth with every cough. It was clear that her lungs chose not to hold out long enough for her to even be able to study his reactions. She covered her mouth politely, and he watched on silently. It was a strange understanding. He knew she was dying. She knew she was, too. And none of them were doing anything to subside the coughing.

She didn't have very long. If that. And she relented to admit, he was right. A few hours, at most. That trash had really done a total on her. She'd been saved, but she was going to die anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Challenge

PART # 3

Perhaps the most ironic component of this entire ordeal was the simple fact that he didn't anticipate meeting someone with such a conflicting personality, and losing them so quickly. He recalled that moment where he had felt a need to experience her physically—not in a strong sense, but in a small taste, to realise if she was real or not. She had been bitter through the ordeal, and he had discovered something about her that he thought not possible in the past. He had found someone who shared his views in an ideal resting place. Somewhere that was quiet, without jutsu, shinobi, or war. But it appeared that she found that place in the afterlife. He often considered the possibility, too. It was never guaranteed, but the afterlife was the one place where you could imagine your sanctuary.

How did a fiery redhead share his ideals on where he should really be?

Bitterly enough, he had expected his baby brother to share his views on peaceful life. But to his own chagrin, Sasuke did not share that same view. His clan, itself, did not share it. The world lacked the similar view he desired, from his own life. Shinobi were necessary, desired, and always will exist. But to find that rare person who desired life without shinobi present. He had stumbled over a diamond, on a landmine.

She had fallen asleep after coughing fits, and he had managed to stay near the bed, away from her temperous behaviour, to observe her in the rare moments of silence she portrayed. In a sleeping state, she looked more tranquil that he could imagine. However, it also revealed just how soon her state was receeding. Her condition was very weak already, and he supposed these would be the last few hours he maintained with her. Perhaps all she desired was time to spend with a person who wasn't quite like Orochimaru—he could assume anyone would deeply desire that much. But she never revealed information on herself. He hadn't done the same either. They were both criminals and enemies, even until the very end.

_But this attachment, is abnormal_. And it only served to make him even more irritated with himself. This would deviate from his goal-if he attempted to save this girl. If she were to die, it would be a simple ending to his complex life, and perhaps the easiest way to hide that he and Kisame had rescued someone from Orochimaru.

When she shifted a little, he made no movement to help, but he did release a heavy sigh in contrast to the coughing she immediately let out. It was barely the end of the day, and already he knew the end of her life would be sometime during the night. Afterwards, he would need a well thought out excuse for burying a body, and some method of hiding her from Tobi. If he became aware of her, he would try to utilize her, and that was useless now. She was dying, and deceased people deserved a proper burial. To breech death was as ill-thought of as snatching the gods from heaven and placing them on earth. Forbidden, much like the techniques used to revive the deceased. He didn't plan to let her fall into hands like that, because he understood just how he would feel if someone violated his deceased self, as well. Instead, he had every intention to burn her after her death.

Humanity had not left him, entirely, after all.

"Trash. What are you staring at me like that, for?" she asked, and he suddenly realised those dark eyes were locked on him. Much in a way that he didn't expect, a simple stare could tell so much more about her than his own did. Deceptive as he was, she was open. A book waiting to be read. She wasn't afraid of showing herself. Did that compel him? But what really motivated him was—what did she find so entrancing about himself? She didn't seem fond of physical appearance. Perhaps she was perplexed in the same way he was. They were both simply so _challenging_ that they couldn't help but find one another appealing, in that sense. "Your cough," he spoke. It was both a lie, and the truth. He mused over her death while she slept, and he was certain he would continue doing so, even after her death.

She stayed looking in his direction with a calm expression—laced with exhaustion. She was as tired as he was, and she probably wanted to go to sleep. But given that she was speaking to him, she was probably incapable of doing so. "It's like you said," she suddenly said, but not before coughing violently. "I don't have long. Let me live what little I have. You can think shit afterwards." Her harsh words gave way for a more heavy meaning, behind her words. She was almost telling him to let her enjoy what time she had left. He didn't give a response to any of it, but his hand, did reach out to grasp onto her wrist again. This time, however, he held it firmly. For what might have been the roughest way he could hold her hand. He had seen this sort of reaction from his father, on a few occasions, when he meant to convey, to his mother, just how much she had meant to him. He had not seen this sort of gesture between ordinary people, and he had thought he would never attempt it on any ordinary person. But what exactly was normal about 'Tayuya'?

When she stared back with confused eyes, he let his other hand shift over to her shirts top, fingers curling around the hem in order to grasp it. The meshy outfit was ruined. Besides the fact that it was covered in blood and grass stains, it was torn. He had never changed it due to the fact that he had no female apparel for her. He would need to burn it with her when she passed on, to avoid leading Orochimaru in his direction. His confrontation with his brother, would take time. His other hand shifted to her elbow, and then to her shoulder, until he could sit on the side of the bed, very near to her body. Through silence alone, he managed to convey to her what was running through his mind-his thoughts. It was evident in the red blush that spread over her cheeks, despite the darkness covering both of them, in the room. The sun had set, after all.

"That's.. that's insane. We only met yesterday."

But he wanted to say that the connection was there. He had no idea how it had happened. Rushed? Yes, but he was past adolescence, and she was probably approaching it, as well. Too often he had heard that his clansmen had chosen women they found static and homely enough to raise children and cook. He had always thought the same for himself. But a woman who was almost, created to combat him—intellectually, and perhaps physically. How would that not be perfect for himself? Leaning his head down, he allowed his darkbangs to curtain both of them. He had to move over her a little, in order to do so, of course. "You challenged me," he answered, quietly.

Neither knew quite what to say, besides the simple fact that the past two days had led to this. He wasn't certain if he had been fated to encounter her over Kisame rescuing her. But he was well aware that her presence had changed something. If not everything. His only reason for not being able to leave behind his goal was that his brother meant more to him than anyone. Even something as complex as attraction.

The calls of the wind and the moon in the night sky only made him appear even more strangely dark. Her red hair seemed coaxed into a dull shade, under the coo of the night sky. She looked more feminine in this sense. "You rat," she accused, but in a softer, decadent tone. "_You_ challenged me." It was true, he had. But she had been the first challenge he couldn't quite escape. Insults, and other small things that were not used to describe Uchiha Itachi, simply flew from her and reached out to him in colours and expressions. He was enamoured. His hand gripped her shoulder even tighter, and his head tilted until he could let his lips remain close to her ear. Her hair was very soft, unlike her behaviour. He often found it strange that he had such long hair, but most women desired short hair. Her long hair was nice—the smell, like leaves and ash—left him oddly unfulfilled.

"This will be a beginning."

His last? He had never had a first. But he found that saying that would admit too much. They had both cast facades over one another, until there were so many secrets. He had decided to keep them. Until his death, which would be inevitable given his illness. Her expression remained ghastly, until a faint smile cracked over her features. He had to move back to look at the smile, one laced with irony, and brief joy. She was a very simple person, even in her happiness. "An ending, too, you rat," she responded. His hand removed itself from her shoulder, and shifted down to grab the other side of her shirt. He pressed his forehead to hers, in a very soft, but very expressive reaction. While his hand began to inch her upper garement off of her. It slid off so easily, he could barely move away. Within moments, the top was gone, and he pressed an open mouthed kiss to her neck.

The night curtained away any sight of the village, and he indulged in the unusual presence he found himself needing. Naturally, he had been incapable of letting himself near her in a terribly intimate way, but she had managed to doze off in his presence once he had marred her skin. The damaged follicles were easy to notice, and he had taken care to slip under the covers to avoid giving her a chill. Connection was all he found himself requiring, and the connection was evidently there. His hand shifted over her clothed chest, and he inhaled the smell of blood and dried leaves. She would die soon, and he would require three more years.

Morning signalled the sound of her coughing, and this time, he could tell it was too close to her ending. With the sight of red blood covering her outfits and the bedsheets, her nausea and suffering increased, and he had decided that it was time to allow her to decide her own fate. Most shinobi were capable of pulling through with medication. But she had evidently chosen death over her own life. She had no reason to live anymore. He found it ironic that her goal had been completed as well, and she seemed satisfied with it. Although he had not asked what it was. It would require admitting his own goals.

When she seemed almost deceased, with weak breathing and the liking, he thought back to the night, and to how he had attempted to hold her close. It had been an attempt at understanding her, and gaining. But instead, he found he had to lose in order to gain. The more he lost, the more his companions gained. That was all he could truly hope for.

He had intended to turn and leave the room when her fingers curled around his arm, holding him in place. He glanced back at her, and inhaled through his nose. He almost didn't understand how she could bear to see him when she was this unhealthy. "Listen, _Itachi_," she spoke. She had used his name, at last. But he knew these were her last few words. "I'm done. So, do me one last favour." One last favour. He couldn't think well, even as he nodded his head in acceptance of her terms. She required one favour, and he found himself waiting to hear what she wanted. He could only do so much, but a last honour was something of an honour for the shinobi about to caste it.

"Kill me."

Her words were soft. But he found he couldn't stop hearing them. Echoing around his head, repeating itself to him. She wanted him to kill her. It only reminded him of the Uchiha Massacre, and how he had been chosen to kill his clan. It appeared he was constantly chosen for murdering those he had come to be closer to. She was asking the most impossible of tasks from him, and he relented ever agreeing. Her hand shifted to his, eyes bearing heavily onto him. She was quite serious. "I'm in pain. If it ends quickly, you can go sooner. It's obvious you're still chasing some sort of trash." How amused he was, that she was assuming what he was after. But in a sense, she was not wrong. He was chasing his brother's honour, and he would die for it if he had to. She was asking for a mercy he assumed she would not have asked from anyone else. She had confidence, that he would.

He closed his eyes, and he attempted to ignore his weakness. "You're certain?" he asked. And she responded immediately with an affirmative. She wanted to die. At his hands. He felt his stomach churn, but he listened. He understood. And he could only let himself reach for the kunai strapped at his leg. He held it out towards her chest. "Don't be a wuss, rat. Hurry up," she encouraged. "Get this over with."

"Tayuya," he added, quickly, and he pressed the tip of the sharp kunai against her chest. She was listening, and anticipating.

"I'll be late, but I will be under that tree."

He plunged the kunai into her chest.

(break)

When he had set her corpse on fire, outside in the grass, the smell of burning ash went up into the sky, escaping with the breeze. It would be as if no trace of her remained. He would have continued on normally had not the form of the masked man appeared beside him. Clothed in the Akatsuki robes, he appeared natural, had he not been staring at the fire intently.

"Who was she?" he asked, with an amused tone. Itachi hardly told others of who he associated with, as limited as the number was. But this once, he found himself musing in how two days had changed everything he had once considered concrete of himself. But to tell others her identity, would be to lose a part of her he intended to keep to himself. Deciding against speaking, the full truth, he instead watched the remainder of her body burn away under the crisp orange flames. He was fine knowing he would join her one day. Not the present, but in a future, where he hoped his brother was free of all conflict. "A person who took part in defaming the Uchiha clan," he responded. And the masked man stared at him, quietly, likely attempting to understand what he meant. "What was she to you?" he asked, then. Itachi shook his head, and turned around to begin walking away, only hearing the faint grass footsteps as Tobi followed.


	4. Chapter 4

Challenge

PART # 4

When he first opened his eyes, he heard nothing but the coo of the world around him, and a voice in his mind. It was then that he became aware that someone had violated his body, in his death, and taken pieces of his DNA strands to form what was an incomplete corpse of himself. This corpse could not have its own movement. His only hope was that someone was capable of stopping him without his own input. He feared that he and the other revived shinobi from the Akatsuki would wreak havoc in a world that did not require more sorrow. He quickly encountered Naruto, and decided to use the eye of Shisui given to Naruto, on himself. He couldn't leave the world in anyone's hands. Naruto's fate was to stop Sasuke—Itachi would need to do that for his little brother. Stopping Kabuto and the Edo Tensei jutsu. No one else could possibly do this.

When he was racing through the forests towards Kabuto, his most unexpected reunion with Sasuke occurred, and he found his brother chasing him. It was not what he wanted, but he found it could work to his advantage. He needed one last chance to turn his brother in the right direction. Towards peace, rather than the war he inevitably desired. He listened to Sasuke's words, but hardly provided even a moment of answer. He knew that it would be better to do so when Kabuto was dead.

"Itachi! Tobi told me everything!"

He didn't know quite what to do. He was going based on his own instinct and last minute planning, because his entire life seemed to be a tactical game of chess he hadn't quite anticipated. Everything was going in ways he had assumed would happen, and had preplanned for. "Who the hell was she?! He told me you killed your _lover_!" Sasuke screamed, a little too loudly, and Itachi could feel the air around him still. Although he didn't speak about it, he still recalled that day, that moment, and everything that had changed his life and his expectations after his own 'death'.

_I said I would wait for her, but there's an interruption._

She had been one of the most unusual people he had ever met, and all he could think of, in regard to her, was the way she never used his name until her last moment. Rat, trash—she had been uncanny and absolutely cruel in her insults. But he had found that more appealing than polite cooes most women indulged in. He found that more interesting than anything he had seen from another female. But she had died, inevitably, and her blood was on his hands, partly. Tobi had probably assumed so much based off of the burning corpse he had seen that day. Lover was a term Itachi had never thought to associate with her in the three years since her death. Even after he himself died, he could never find her in his death. But to hear it from his own brother, made it feel more concrete. As if she had really been his lover, rather than a girl Kisame had rescued and left with Itachi. Uchiha Itachi's lover, had been the person who kidnapped Sasuke and set him on the negative path he was on right now.

He raced ahead and Sasuke continued shouting, demanding answers, and he ignored it to focus on his goal. He would not be sidetracked by another challenge again.

* * *

He closed his eyes for only two moments. Not long enough to obstruct his view or his perception of the battlefield.

But the moment he opened his eyes, sound flew through his mind. His ears. And the pain it caused immediately left him breathless. It was a flute melody, much unlike any other he had previously seen. It was covered in different sorts of melodies and tones, but the most substancial part of everything that he noticed was that his Susanoo was still activated. There was no possible way to penetrate Susanoo. No way anyone could attack him when he had Susanoo activated.

When he stared at Kabuto, he couldn't help the shocked eyes he had, for a mere moment. His eyes took in the sight of a head sprouting from Kabuto's stomach. The long hair, in the dull tone of Kabuto's snake-like body, with the bone-flute clutched in its hands, immediately resembled a person he had not seen since death over three years ago. Those big eyes, staring at him as it played a melody. A melody he had never heard, but had long since come to realise finally entered his consciousness. His _challenge_ had returned. But this time, Kabuto had violated another deceased person in order to gain their abilities. Upset and angry as he was, Itachi controlled his temper in order to maintain the ability to hide things from his brother. Sasuke had no reason to know about anything beyond the Uchiha massacre. There was much more sorrow in Itachi's life than Sasuke had ever come to know. He had no future if he knew that Itachi had killed her because Konoha was chasing Sasuke, and she had been close to death already. His brother was as uncaring as he could imagine.

Itachi had decided, at least internally, that his motivation for defeating Kabuto and making him stop had transcended just his little brother, now. It was also for his 'lover', who likely had no consciousness of her DNA being manipulated in this way. The only positive aspect of this had been the one most immediate thing—she really had been created to combat even his most powerful ninjutsu. They were a perfect matchup.

* * *

His hand reached out, and Sasuke stared on in horror. Expecting a repeat of the past, where he poked his brother's forehead in a display of brotherly affection. But Itachi knew it was beyond time to keep facades. Sasuke needed the truth, about his life, about what he was to Itachi. A brother who was irreplaceable. He reached out and let his arm extend around his brother's shoulder, and he pressed his forehead to Sasuke's own in order to stay as close as he could. This rotting shell had only so long before it faded away.

Sasuke continued to stare on in shock, but Itachi finally allowed himself to smile. It had felt like aeons since he had been able to display his emotions so affront for his brother. No more reservations. "You don't have to forgive me. No matter what you decide from now on.. **I will always love you**."

Taking in how Sasuke only stared on at him, Itachi felt his very body beginning to crumble and fade. It was a strange sensation. His consciousness faded, and it was mostly painless, save for the irritation of a headache-like feeling. He could tell his brother was desperately attempting to make him stay. Because they had not had enough time together, but Itachi knew he couldn't. He no longer belonged in this world, and beyond that, he also knew that had delayed waiting for someone else important.

Looking at Sasuke one more time, he kept his smile on his expression, even as the remainder of his body faded, and his setting changed from the desolate cave into a strangely vast sky. He became aware that he had silently told Sasuke he was going to a better place, and in a last moment, his brother gave him a smile as well. An understanding one.

Blue and covered in birds, flying towards a bright sun, it became evident that this place was not one he had been to before. It looked too peaceful. He tilted his head up and took in the sight of a tree, maple most likely, branching up and around him, creating a shadow. With a faint smile, he leaned back against the tree, taking note that the black cloak he wore held no red clouds. It was just a dull black, the colour he found he most liked. He closed his eyes and stayed still, letting the breeze blow against him, as his mind replayed Sasuke's smile. Sasuke's understanding. The last time he would likely see his brother for, hopefully, a long time.

He knew he had manipulated him until his very last moment, but that had to be done. Sasuke needed to be set on the correct path, whether that was with or against his clan. His village was still Konoha, much like Itachi's own was. He didn't know what else he could do. Now that he had made it to the tree, he knew his final destination was here. He would have to wait.

"Took you long enough, you rat."

He opened one eye when he found a head staring down at him. It had a body, of course, but he mused over how long red hair covered most of it. The outfitting was familiar. But moreso than that, the voice and the insult was. He kept a faint smile on his features, and he extended one hand out towards her, palm upward. He was aware of who it was, so when his hand was smacked away, he didn't take it to insult. He had expected it, and that was part of the reason why he found her so strangely _challenging_. She shifted to sit down infront of him, and he noticed that finally, he didn't feel as incomplete. The way she stared at him with that sneer, he couldn't help but feel a little less empty. He had kept his promise, a little late, but it was still worth it.

She looked healthy. Her skin was a pale-peachy shade, and her limbs were apparently working. With the strange helmet she wore on her head, and her lips a rosy red, he was aware that his prior image of her did no justice to her. She was beyond doubt, more beautiful than any woman from Konohagakure could ever be. He couldn't understand why she chose the life of a Shinobi. But at the same time, Orochimaru had a tendency to kidnap against wills. To tempt. "Introduction time, trash," she said, quickly. He had expected this as well, but it was long past time for an introduction. They knew very little of one another. "I'm Tayuya. From a village specializing in instrument related _ninjutsu_. My village was destroyed, and Orochimaru took me in."

The first mention of Orochimaru, made him realise just how much of a life she had in his undertaking. She had been one of his followers. Until her very death. He had been a follower of Konoha until his very death, as well. The irony of their lives, was so unusual. Similar, but so different. He still had much more to learn about her as well. "I am Uchiha Itachi. I massacred my entire clan and left my brother alive in order to die before him, and to redeem my clan's name. My brother, _Sasuke_ was the last person to see me alive," he answered.

Much like his own reaction, shock visibly came over her. He was certain she now realised everything about him, including what she had done to him. He didn't think she would regret it, and much like what he had thought, she managed to shake her head and look to the ground. "He was trash. We lured him away too easily," she responded. And he had known that much from the way she made him sound. Trash. Someone like Tayuya couldn't resist insulting people weaker than her, but her few words about friendship showed she knew what to value. She was a loyal person. She was the kind of challenge he still had yet to entirely understand. Without much more moment, he reached out and grabbed hold of her wrist, and to his chagrin, she stayed stiff. She probably didn't know what he wanted.

"Do you know what my brother believes you are to me?" he asked, even as he tugged her closer. He was still stronger, and she easily fell against his form. She was still shorter. But she had those mature eyes and she had an unusual flame in them, one he had seen even in her moment of death. This kind of girl was one of few who weren't afraid of showing themselves. He was the opposite, and he had an eternity to try and find out what she was really like. She had an eternity to try and understand him. "He called you my lover," he responded, and the flush over her cheeks showed she hadn't expected that from him. "That's bullshit. You're never going to touch me," she mumbled. Her hushed tone gave away how flushed she was. He found it appealing.

"I don't need to. My feelings for you trascent physicality. You challenged me, and now, I want to see if you can continue challenging me," he answered, and even as he did, he tilted his head down slightly, until he could press a faint kiss against her lips. They were warm, and the lingering taste was much more inviting than he remembered. She was like a livewire. He wondered how Sasuke would react, seeing him so enthralled with one female. He didn't hear a sound from her, or a retort back, and with a puzzled frown, he noticed her lowering her head until she could press her forehead against his shoulder. He could feel her soft breath, against his cloak, and his body by extension. She was actually more gentle than he had thought. It was a strangely welcoming change, but he relented that he hadn't been able to notice in his life. "Are you sure you really want shit with me? I doomed your brother. You don't even seem like the kind of—"

Before she could continue, he'd managed to grab her chin with one hand, in order to draw her attention back up to him. He was increasingly gentle. Her personality, these many facets, only continued to bring his attention. He didn't understand what drew her in about him, but it was hopefully going to stay, for a long time. "I decided, that day when you challenged me," he responded, and he revelled in how she blushed a little bit. She looked more fragile than he recalled. "How did you die?" she asked, faintly. He knew how she died, but she must have wanted to know about his death. "Illness. My lungs, gave out," he admitted. It was the same kind of death she had, albeit at a much slower rate, but the pain had been great. He couldn't have anyone spare him either, because his death was necessary.

He heard her laughter—faint and small. And he couldn't help but try and understand what she found so humouring. "You really haven't changed at all in the past three years, Itachi," she said, almost as if it were redundant. He shook his head, and shifted one arm around her neck, pressing his hand to her neck, in order to cradle her body close. It felt perfect, to an extent. Having someone so close to him.

And as the sun began to set in this ethereal world, both of them continued to revel in each other's mysteries—challenges always did end up being the most resolute way to learn more about yourself. By the time the last sight of the sun had come up, she was laying in the grass, staring up at the sky, and he had managed to drape his cloak around her sometime during their long talks. It was strangely full, just speaking to her for most of his day. There was a village off in the distance, but he'd decided to keep her here as long as he could. Shifting his hand over her forehead, and ignoring the helmet placed beside him, he watched each hair spread away from his touch. _I suppose, this was how it was meant to be_, he thought. _I died. She died as well. And my brother is still alive. I have peace here. I didn't have time for that in life. But at least I achieved what I wanted._

When he heard faint mumbling, and she turned away from his hand, he knew she'd drifted off, and he only shook his head and let his hand rest on her shoulder. It was beginning to be late, and he found that today, he wouldn't be able to sleep, if only because he wanted to watch over her. Maybe tomorrow. After he brushed her hair aside, to see the lack of a cursed seal on her neck, he shook his head and smiled—just as crickets began to chirp and a strange serenity settled over him.

Maybe he wouldn't see Sasuke for a long time. Maybe he was dead. But at least he had a _challenge_ to occupy his time in the meanwhile.

**THE END.**


End file.
